


oh my god they were roommates

by angryjane



Series: and they were roommates [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentioned Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Post-Canon, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), Roommates, Teasing, This Is STUPID, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Vampires, not explicit really but, penny is done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 06:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18867199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryjane/pseuds/angryjane
Summary: Sequel to "and they were roommates," but can be read as a standalone.Just a few peices of Simon and Baz's life post-Carry On. More to be added soon!!!





	oh my god they were roommates

**Author's Note:**

> yeet
> 
> :) i would recommend reading the first one, "and they were roommates" first, but you don't gotta!!!

 

** October **

 

**_Baz_ **

I find myself in his flat more often than I find myself in Fiona's, these days. Hers is dingy and smells like rust and mildew and stale coffee; his is bright and warm and smells like cinnamon and smoke, just like _him._

It smells like Bunce too, all flowers and incense and determination. I quite like her, and her smell too.

I think the smell thing might be a vampire bit, but at this point I'm not sure.

(For the record, Fiona herself smells better than her apartment: like whiskey and lavender.)

(My father smells like filing cabinets and ink.)

(My mother always smelt like campfires and honey and tea.)

Simon himself is spread out on the sofa, norse buried in a book. The sun streams in from behind him, and his curls look like spun gold. Or they do to me; Fiona and Penny say I'm a romantic. I just say I'm frightfully observant.

His legs re kicking up and swinging back and forth behind him, Pikachu slippers flopping on his feet. He doesn't hear me come in, and i clear my throat.

He seems startled, reluctant to come out form behind the book, but he grins when he sees me, one of those thousand-watt smiles of his.

"Snow," I say, and I try to say it with my old chill, but it comes out fond and soft. Like I always hoped I'd be able to say it one day.

"Pitch," He replies, throwing his nose up in a poor impression of whatever snooty look I'm giving him.

"Reading, are we?" I ask, dropping into an armchair across form him. "Didn't know you knew how."

He scoffs, but he's still smiling, tucking the book away as he says, "Haha, very original, Bazzy."

I hate it when people call me that, except him. Mordy used to do it non-stop. It was cute when she was little, but not so cute when she's ten.

"I've been around you so long, I might have run out of insults," I tell him.

"Hopefully that means you'll be switching to compliments?" He giggles. I love his laugh. It sounds like liquid fire and honey.

"Maybe," I concede. "What _are_ you reading?"

He tenses a little at that, pulling the book in to his chest.

I raise and eyebrow at him, and his cheeks darken. I love his blush too-- it's a real show. It starts at his cheeks, then spreads out and down to his ears, his neck, his chest, and lower...

"Nothing!" He cries, all too quickly. I smirk at him, slow and demure, and stand form my chair, bending to lean over the arm of the couch. I dip my face towards his.

"Hiding something, Snow?" I ask, and he looks away.

"No." He sounds indignant, defiant. I reach out and snatch the book form his grasp, dancing away when he lunges for me.

_"Vampire Psychology 101"_ I read, and cover my mouth to hold in a laugh.

"It- I- uh-" Simon stutters, red as a beet, and I grin ay hime.

"Doing some research?" I ask teasingly, then glance dow at the book. There's a bookmark sticking out of one of the pages, and I flip to it. The chapter is titled, " _Sexual Psychology of Vampires."_

I raise and eyebrow at Simon. Suddenly my mouth runs dry.

Simon stares back, swallowing showily, and my eyes dart dow to his Adam's apple. I could bite it, draw the blood and suck, taste that lovely liquid under my tongue.

But I'd never hurt him.

I clear my throat and go to snark at him, but the door to the flat bangs open and Bunce shuffles through, arms loaded with groceries.

She looks between us, kicking the door closed, then grumbles, "I don't know what's happening here, but you boys better help me tight now or I'll spell you both to the ceiling."

Simon jumps up to help her, a relieved grin on his face, and I follow.

(I always do.)

 

** March **

 

**Simon**

Baz is _dancing_. He's fucking _dancing_ in my living room at three in the morning, drunk and flushed, and he looks so pretty I could die.

He's still wearing the suit from the party earlier, but his tie's strewn on the floor and his top buttons are pooped, showing sharp collarbones and pales skin. His hair's come out of it's gelled-back position, mostly due to my fingers trailing though it all night, and his eyes are closed, face slack and peaceful.

He'd dragged me off to some posh relative's party, all cocktails and stiff smalltalk, until we'd snuck out to a balcony and made out on the roof to some cheesy Spotify playlist until midnight. He'd pushed me to the tiled roof, hovering over me, framed by moonlight and eyes practically glowing in the reflection, and I'd tilted my face into him, letting him do whatever he liked, until Mordy had started shouting for us.

We'd left then, not even stopping to say our goodbyes, and landed in an all-night diner, where we'd shared a milkshake and giggled ourselves silly until two.

And now here we were, dancing in my flat while Penny snores quietly a room over, and he looks os happy and I love him like this. I love him when he's being a git too, but something about this peaceful content version of him makes me want to sigh in delight.

He was never this relaxed before, when we were at Watford. He's never like this around his family, and I wonder if he ever let himself be like this before now. Before he had me.

(He's kinda always had me, but don't tell him that. I'll never hear the end of it.

He's so fucking _smug_ , it's bad for his health, or it ought to be.)

He pops an eye open, quirking a brow and holding out a hand.

I smile, and take it.

 

** June **

**Baz**

 

"Come on come on come on," Simon is chanting, hands buried in my hair. He's got his face pressed to my chest, and he nips at it, continuing, "" _Baz,_ please."

"Please what?" I tease, because I can. I move my hands down his back, and he shivers in my arms.

"Please, just do something." He whines, and it's glorious.

"Do what?"

" _Baz,"_ He cries, and I grin.

"Alright, alright, but only because you sound so pretty."

 

** November **

****

**Simon**

I cannot find it.

I have looked literally everywhere, torn the flat apart, and it is nowhere to be seen.

I think I'm gonna cry.

I've been anxious all week and I'm not exactly sure why, but this just feels like the icing on the cake.

Baz is away, too, which makes it all the worse. He's in Paris on some posh uni trip to talk economics with the Queen or some shit, and Penny's long moved out. (She said we were "gross" and "get a fucking room" so we did. We got a flat. Same difference.)

I've been bored and alone, and I don't even have that much homework to distract me. I _do_ have that one painting to finish, but I can't really do that if my muse is in France.

I'm panicking, jumping frantically around the apartment, but it's no use.

I cannot find my fucking phone.

I pause in the doorway to Baz and I's room to take a breath. Nothing food can't help.

\---

Food did not help.

Sure, now I'm full, but I'm getting more and more anxious by the second.

In a last-ditch resort, I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Baz.

"Hello?" He picks up on the first ring.

" _Baz_ ," I sigh in relief, and it feels like I can breath again. I slump in my chair, pushing my plate across the table.

"What is it, love?" He asks. I can hear talking in the background, then the sound of a door, and it's quiet on the other end.

"Baz, I can't find my phone." I tell him, and it feels wonderful. I feel like I've been holding it in my chest forever, even though it's only been twenty minutes.

"Simon," Baz says, and he's _laughing._ That git is _laughing._ The _audacity._

"Baz," I whine.

"Simon, what are you calling me on?"

....

Oh.

"Fuck." I breathe. "oh, fuck. Thank god." He's full-on laughing now, and I sigh again. "I'm sorry for bothering you, darling. I'm an idiot."

"I know," Baz laughs, "I love it. Okay, I have to go. Love you."

"Love you too."

 

\-------

**Author's Note:**

> did y'all like that??
> 
> also!!! a poll:  
> would you be most interested in--  
> -a continuation of this  
> -something ~steamy~  
> -another One Where ______ Finds Out  
> -or something else?? an au?? perhaps??
> 
> LET ME KNOW PLEASE!!!!
> 
> uwu uwu xoxoxoxoxoxo
> 
> let me in  
> let me INNNNNNNNNNNN


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